Questions Without Answers
by deekay
Summary: Post "Sabotage" - Amita and Don's conversation at the end of the episode continues with an unexpected invitation for Don. COMPLETE
1. One

_Disclaimer: _Characters etc belong to CBS and the show's creators.

_Author's Note:_ Set post episode 6 "Sabotage" where the FBI investigate a series of recreated accidents involving railroad negligence. This picks up where the episode left off.

* * *

**One**

Charlie's animated voice could be heard from the table in the next room as he continued regaling David and Terry with examples of the artistic application of complex algorithms. Terry had made the made mistake of telling Charlie she didn't see how math related to the real world, and they were now paying the consequences.

His explanation of the Fibonacci sequence prompted David to mention its inclusion in _The Da Vinci Code_, which had set Charlie off a new tangent – mathematical code in art. Charlie had found a scrap of paper and pen and was scribbling furiously, almost maniacally, as he detailed the inaccuracies in the popular novel. David was shaking his head as Terry groaned – it was going to be a long night.

"Aren't you going to rescue your partner?" Amita asked Don, as the two of them watched from the dining room.

"Terry knows better by now than to bait Charlie like that," Don said, taking a sip of his beer. "He bailed her up one Thanksgiving for three hours when she made the mistake of questioning the futility of Minesweeper. P vs NP, for God's sake…"

He shook his head at the remembrance.

"In that case she deserves everything she gets." Amita smiled good naturedly.

"Of course, you mathematicians stick together."

"I'm not exactly in Charlie's league, but I'll take that as a compliment."

"Well, you do a pretty good imitation of it. You've been a great help on these cases." Don tilted his beer bottled towards her, and Amita clinked hers with it. "Cheers."

"You and the other agents are the impressive ones," Anita said. "It's amazing to be around."

Don looked at her through half-closed eyes. "It's okay, I guess."

"Okay? Don, you save lives, you protect innocent people from being hurt, you catch the bad guys… These are not insignificant things."

He shrugged in a non-committal way, but was pleased nonetheless. There were worse things in the world than impressing beautiful grad students. But Don had to remind himself this was Amita, a woman he suspected his brother had more than a passing interest in, even if it was unlikely Charlie would ever do anything about it.

Don had certainly noticed Amita, after she started working with Charlie. Not only was she intelligent and funny, she was warm and relatable where Charlie's other colleagues – good-natured Larry included – were not. And she was a knock out. Don couldn't ignore that simple fact. Yet another reason why he questioned how his little brother failed to make any sort of move on her. Typical Charlie.

"So, you and Terry… Charlie said the two of you used to date?" Amita said casually.

Don frowned slightly, not expecting the question. Immediately he grew annoyed at his family's propensity to discuss his history with his partner. Why else would she be asking?

"Many years ago, when we were at the Academy together."

"So why aren't you together now?" Amita asked innocently, as David and Terry's debate with Charlie in the next room escalated.

"Did my dad put you up to this?" said Don, with an exasperated sigh.

"No, answer the question."

Don rubbed the cool beer bottle against his temple. The topic made him weary, he was growing tired of everyone's assumption that Terry and he should be together.

"Because we're partners… it's not exactly well received. Not to mention awkward, I mean we work together every day. That kind of complexity cannot be a good thing."

Amita nodded, smiling slightly as she looked at Charlie.

"What?" Don countered. "What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing…" she replied, smothering the expression.

"Then what about you and Charlie?"

Amita grinned. "Oh, here we go. Not you too."

"What? Dad's on at you two as well?"

"You could say that."

"So…"

"So, it's the same deal. We work together – well, he's my thesis supervisor. The rules against dating are there for a reason."

"But if not for university rules…" Don prompted.

"If there were no university rules," Amita said slowly, contemplating her answer, "your brother would have girls lining up outside his office door. He's considered quite the campus catch, you know."

"Wow, that was a really evasive response, Ms Ramanujan."

"Thank you, Agent Eppes." Amita smiled again, but this time she was looking at Don. "So, what if the FBI allowed you to date your partner?"

Don sighed, looking over at Terry. It wasn't the first time he'd imagined such a scenario, but he knew no good could come of it. He and Terry had been great together, but things were different now. While they were working in the same office – partners, no less – there was no room for any more.

"Honestly, I think sometimes it's best to leave things in the past. It's hard to recapture something that was lost a long time ago."

Amita nodded slightly, and went back to looking at the people around the table in the other room. Don took a last swig of beer and set the empty bottle on the table. His earlier celebratory mood had left him and he just felt worn out from the day's events. The notion of going home to his empty apartment wasn't exactly comforting either, but he could barely remember what it was like to have someone to go home to.

"So, do you ever take a break from saving lives and catching bad guys?" Amita asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Don had stood up to stretch his back, deciding to crash here at the house rather than heading home. "Well, let's see," he mused. "I barely remember what my apartment looks like in daylight, and my father likes to remind me how little time I spend with him despite moving back to LA to be near my family. I think he's hinting I may be a workaholic. Why?"

"I was just wondering if you'd like to have dinner some time."

"What!" he laughed. The word was out of his mouth before Don knew what he'd said.

Amita's cheeks flushed slightly.

"Are you asking me out on a date?" he asked, puzzled.

"No," Amita said stubbornly in reply. "Well, I obviously didn't do a very job of it if that's your reaction…"

"I'm sorry," Don said quickly. "I just need to catch up… I thought we were just talking about you and Charlie."

"No, _you_ were talking about Charlie and me… I was asking if you were romantically involved with your partner." Amita tucked her hair behind her ears. "Listen, it's no big deal, Don. Forget about it."

She stood up to join the others.

"Hang on, wait a second." Don reached out an arm to stop her. "I'm not trying to be a jerk, it's just… it's not every day a… beautiful woman asks me to dinner. Let alone someone who I always thought had a crush on my little brother."

Amita smiled, not unkindly. "I didn't say I'd be there lining up outside his office, though, did I?"

Don's mouth was slightly agape as Amita turned and walked into the other room. She took a seat at the table and smiled at Charlie and the agents. Charlie immediately enlisted her to join him in browbeating David some more. Don continued to watch her, slightly stunned, until Terry escaped from the room and begged him to give her a ride home.


	2. Two

_Disclaimer: _Characters etc belong to CBS and the show's creators.

* * *

**Two**

A couple of days later Don stopped by Charlie's office with some material for the case they were currently working on. He wandered the math department floor until he found his brother's cluttered office. Hoping to catch Charlie alone so he could casually question him on his feelings for Amita, he stopped in the doorway when he saw she was there in the office, alone.

"Amita, hi… I was looking for Charlie," Don stammered slightly.

She looked up from her laptop, a smile escaping her lips at the sight of the always cool agent looking perplexed. It was obvious he hadn't anticipated her presence there – he had barely stepped a foot inside the door.

"He's at a faculty meeting. He should be back in a half hour or so," Amita replied evenly, refusing to react to her unexpected, though not unwelcome, visitor.

"Oh." Don paused, unsure how to continue. He looked down at the folders in his hand. "I guess I should just leave these, then."

"I'll make sure he gets them," Amita said, rising to take the bundle. She turned her back on him and put them on Charlie's desk.

Don watched her from behind, and let out a long breath. He was definitely out of practice when it came to women. He was a skilled federal agent, an intelligent, worldly person. In high school and his twenties he had never had trouble attracting the opposite sex and relationships had come easily to him. But in more recent years he started experiencing a drought that was of his own doing, albeit without real intent.

Since leaving Albuquerque and Kim when his mother was diagnosed with cancer, Don had simply stopped dating. At first it was because his spare time was spent with his mother during her illness. Then after she died and he decided to stay in LA, his brief engagement to Kim over, he simply never rejoined the dating scene. He told himself he just didn't have time to meet anyone, didn't have the patience or desire to introduce anyone to his world and the baggage that came along with it. That only left women from that world, or one woman, namely Terry, but that was just another complex and difficult situation that he decided not to face.

Don realized he really had left it too long when simply being a room with a beautiful woman like Amita in a vaguely awkward situation left him tongue-tied. It was kind of pathetic, considering he had always been confident when it came to women. And baseball. Now he never even picked up a bat, and his tally with women was just as bleak.

Amita could feel his eyes on her but was in no real rush to turn around to face him. She pretended to straighten the items on Charlie's desk for several moments before she did.

"Did you want me to give him a message?" she said finally.

"Ah, yeah, just tell him these are some old field reports he might want to take a look at for the Phelps case… It's not urgent, I just thought they might help, you know… down the track."

Amita nodded, her face giving nothing away. She couldn't help but be secretly pleased that Don was acting so un-Don like. She had asked him to dinner on an impulse, before she had time to second guess herself and lose that split second of courage. While she had always liked Charlie's brother, and liked the fact he actually noticed her, unlike Charlie, Amita hadn't been planning to ask him out. It was not her standard M.O. – she usually wasn't the one who had to the asking. But Amita suspected that she would be waiting a long time for the older Eppes brother to make any sort of move, despite the fact she intuitively knew it was on his mind.

Don intrigued her, perhaps because he was so dissimilar from his brother. She couldn't help but be drawn to Charlie – his exceptional mind was awe-inspiring and he never failed to impress her on a daily basis. But despite being so passionate about numbers – perhaps a little too far on the obsessive scale sometimes – Charlie's emotions didn't translate to people as easily. There was a sense of disconnect there that Amita didn't get from Don. Logic and intellect were part of his make up too, but it was underpinned by his basic and seemingly effortless ability to _connect_ with people. Amita was drawn to Don in a completely different way and lately it been hard to ignore.

She had even gone so far as to hint at it to Charlie. A few days previously when she had received an unfortunate dinner invitation from the docent of the railway museum they had visited, she told him she preferred it when men were upfront and asked her out if they were interested, instead of saying nothing so she had no idea if they were. She had been referring to Don and hoped to get some kind of clue from Charlie as to his interest in her, but her little fishing expedition had been cut short when she spied a depressed Larry in need of his friends' attention.

Except of course, when it came to Don she _did_ have an idea about his interest in her, she had caught him looking at her on a number of occasions in a manner that made it pretty obvious he was attracted to her. But the frustrating part was that it appeared Don wasn't going to ask her out. Hence, her only recourse was to do the asking herself.

Amita hoped it was not going to make things weird between them. It was only an impulse, she reminded herself, to avoid any further embarrassment over the fact that he had not even answered her. That part was best forgotten.

Don was staring at a theorem outlined on one of Charlie's chalkboards, even though it made zero sense to him.

"Was there anything else I can help you with, Don?" Amita asked politely.

"Ah yeah, there is… I was thinking about the uh, thing, you asked me the other night…"

"'The Thing'?"

"Yeah, you know, dinner… with you. Dinner," he said, annoyed at his own inarticulateness.

"Mmm hmm?" Amita questioned nonchalantly.

"Is the invitation still there?"

She fixed him with a stare, her dark eyes twinkling. "Do you want it to be?"

Don rounded the table at the front of the room and leaned up against it, trying to act nonchalant. "Are you still interested in going out?"

"Do you think I would have asked if I wasn't?"

"What about Charlie?" Don crossed his arms.

"What about him?"

"Are you sure you weren't asking me to dinner because you can't date my brother?"

Amita raised her eyebrows as she gazed at him but her tone was light. "When someone is interested in you do you always assume they're just trying to make your brother jealous?"

"Is that a no, this has got nothing to do with Charlie?"

"Do you have to ask?"

Don pursed his lips, and narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. He felt like he was questioning a suspect, and being questioned in return. At least it was familiar territory. After a pause he said, "So, why did you ask me out?"

"Do you expect me to stand here and tell you why I like you, to flatter your ego?" she said, trying to sound incredulous.

"It's not like I knew you were going to ask me - what if I was surprised?"

Amita took a step closer to him, her eyes unwavering. "You think I never noticed the way you look at me?"

"When?"

"The briefing room every time I'm at your office, your brother's lecture last month, your father's house… ring any bells?"

Don couldn't exactly argue with that. He had found himself staring at Amita right in front of Charlie on several occasions. Luckily his little brother was oblivious to his interest in his mentee. A grin broke out on Don's face. It was a long time since he had flirted with anyone, and Amita definitely gave better than she got.

"Do you always answer a question with another question?" He had nowhere else to go.

Amita wasn't about to let him win. "Do you always take two days to say yes to a simple dinner invitation?"

Don broke eye contact before he started laughing. He ran a hand through his short dark hair, frustrated and at the same time uneasy about this verbal tennis match he didn't have to heart to terminate. There were things you just didn't do, and one of them was being interested in someone to whom your brother was also drawn. This particular scenario was complicated by the fact that not only was Charlie not allowed to become involved with his student, he would probably never act on any feelings he might have due to his own reluctance to date. Don knew this, he knew his brother. Don also knew what he himself wanted, even if Charlie didn't.

"How's Friday at 8? I'll pick you up?" he said, unable to hide is smile.

"Are you sure?" Amita asked coyly.

"Are you?"

"Didn't I already answer that?" She was smiling now too.

Don held her gaze a few moments longer, then nodded and headed for the door.

"So, I'll see you then?" he said over his shoulder.

"What do you think?"

Amita smothered her smile as she sat down in front of her laptop again, pretending to go back to work. Don let out a quiet chortle and left before either of them changed their minds.


	3. Three

_Disclaimer: _Characters etc belong to CBS and the show's creators.

* * *

**Three**

"Hello? Anyone home?" Don called out as he walked through the empty dining room. It was after nine in the evening, and the door was open so he knew Charlie or his father had to be there.

"Out here, Donny," bellowed Alan from the back deck where he and Charlie were eating ice cream and watching the sprinklers in the yard below.

"Hey," sighed Don as he walked out to join them.

"Have you eaten?" Alan said immediately, taking in the wearied look of his eldest son. "We've got leftovers."

"I'm fine, Dad." Don took a seat and stretched his legs out in front of him, loosening his tie as he did so.

"Fine? You don't look so fine. I bet you haven't eaten since breakfast. I'm getting you some soup," he muttered as he took Charlie's empty bowl and headed inside.

Charlie watched him go with a wry smile. He liked it when Don copped a serve of their father's parental nagging instead of himself.

"Rough day?" Charlie asked gently.

"It was okay. You?"

"The usual. I've been working on a really interesting paper with a visiting geometry professor on combinatorics of unbounded polyhedra and convex hull computation."

"Sounds thrilling," Don mumbled.

"You have no idea…"

Don barely listened as Charlie animatedly explained the project, only tuning in again when he concluded, without pausing for breath, "Oh and I got those files you dropped off this morning."

Charlie retrieved a notebook from the seat beside him. "The field reports were very thorough. I should be able to run a few variables on the data for you."

"Great, thanks," said Don, his chin practically on his chest in a contemplative pose. "There's no rush on that, Charlie, I wouldn't worry abut it."

"It's okay, I had a look before dinner. I'm particularly interested in the money trail from the tier one investors. At first glance they're perfectly legal, above board transfers but I noticed…"

Charlie was interrupted by Alan's return. He had brought Don a large bowl of soup and crackers and told Charlie to let his brother eat.

"And when you boys have finished talking shop I TiVo'd tonight's game, if you want to watch," Alan said as he retreated inside once more.

"Thanks, Dad. I'll be in in a minute," Don called after him. He eyed the soup tiredly before putting it aside in favor of the beer that Alan had also given him. He looked over at Charlie with a small smile. "Since when does Dad use TiVo?"

"Since I dismantled the VCR," Charlie replied.

Don raised a curious eyebrow.

"It was squeaking so I'm fixing it…" was the offered explanation. Charlie's thoughts soon returned to the Phelps case. "So, those transactions… the amounts might seem to be random but if you look closer…"

"Let's talk about it tomorrow, okay buddy?" said Don. His head was already swimming from the complex fraud case and the last thing he needed was a detailed description from Charlie about the intricacies of international bank transfers.

"Okay, but there's some really interesting patterns emerging and I was able to map – "

"I'll look at them tomorrow at the office, I promise," Don insisted, cutting him short.

"Okay, fine," said Charlie lightly, leaning back in his chair.

The brothers sat without speaking for several minutes, the only sound the faint whoosh of the sprinklers below them and the scratching of Charlie's pen as he scribbled down a few more thoughts as they popped into his head.

Don picked absent-mindedly at the beer bottle's label with his fingernail, deep in thought. After seeing Amita earlier in the day he had barely had time to think about talking to Charlie about their dinner date. It was only when he headed for home that the nagging thought he had successfully ignored for the whole day returned.

"So…" started Don slowly, "I saw Amita when I dropped off those folders at your office today."

"Uh huh," Charlie replied, without losing focus. His fingers pulled at an unruly curl that fell in front of his eyes as he contemplated the algorithm in front of him.

"What's the deal with you two, anyway?" Don asked as casually as he could. When Charlie didn't respond at first, he realized there was no point being subtle if he wanted to get his brother's attention. "Charlie?"

"What?"

"I asked what was going on with you and Amita…"

Charlie looked up finally, a flash of uncertainty on his face.

"Amita is my student. Nothing's going on," he said with an unconvincing shrug.

"But…" Don prompted him gently.

"But nothing," Charlie said with some firmness. "You know, I've been thinking about what you said the other day, about how I should hurry up and do something before she gets snatched up. Dad's the same too. And while I appreciate that you're both looking out for me, the thing about Amita is, _she's my student_. I'm her advisor, her mentor. You know, nothing can actually happen while I'm in that position."

Don pondered this for a moment. "But if you weren't… I mean, if you were in a position to…"

"But I'm not, Don, that's the thing. It would be ethically wrong, not to mention damaging to my reputation, my tenure…"

Don nodded slowly.

"Just because she's the only woman you and Dad ever see me with, doesn't mean we're destined to be together. Much as he'd like it…" Charlie finished with a half-hearted smile, gesturing towards their father inside.

"So I guess that means – "

"Stop worrying about me," Charlie cut him off. "I don't need you and Dad to help me get a girlfriend. I'll do just fine on my own, thank you."

A smile crept unbidden on Don's lips, masking his unease. "But how would you feel if she started seeing someone else?"

The question hung in the air for several seconds before Charlie found his voice.

"Fine, absolutely fine."

He shrugged casually but it was utterly unconvincing. Don didn't believe him for a second.

"Why, did you hear something?" Charlie said worriedly.

Don chewed his bottom lip for a moment. "I wouldn't worry about it, buddy," he replied quietly, before rising stiffly and taking his uneaten dinner inside to join his father.

It was after 11 when Don arrived home at his apartment, having left Alan dozing in front of the taped baseball game and Charlie brooding over his work.

It was too late to call her, Don told himself, but a few minutes later he was dialling information and asking for her number.

A sleepy voice answered after a couple of rings. "Hello?"

"Amita? It's Don," he said apologetically, convinced he had woken her. "I'm sorry, it's late…"

"It's fine, I was just finishing up some work," she lied, stifling a yawn. "I don't recall giving you my number, Special Agent Eppes. I hope you didn't look me up on some federal database. Such an abuse of power…"

"Actually you'd be surprised how few A. Ramanujans there are in L.A.," he countered, smiling despite himself. "I took a shot."

There was a faint laugh. "Wasn't today's interrogation enough? Have you got some more questions for me?"

Don's expression tightened. "Actually, it's about Friday… I don't think I'm going to be able to make it."

There was a brief pause. "Oh, okay."

"I mean, I appreciate the invitation, but I've got this big fraud case I'm working on, and I'm… you know, not going to be around much."

"It's fine, Don, don't worry about it." Amita's tone was even, betraying no emotion. "It was just dinner."

"You know, it's kind of complicated anyway, you working with my brother…" he felt the need to explain but couldn't say too much without revealing Charlie's feelings for her, whatever they might be. It wasn't Don's place to say anything at all in that regard.

A pause followed in which he heard a small sigh.

"Fine… if that's how you feel. Let's just forget about it," she replied quietly. "I'll see you around, Don,"

"Yeah… goodnight, Amita."

Don listened as another pause followed, but then there was a click and she was gone. He replaced his phone in its cradle, feeling like a jerk. Worse than that, he realised, was the regret that was tugging at his stomach. He was surprised how disappointed he felt.

"It was just dinner," he said dismissively, shaking himself out of it.


	4. Four

_Disclaimer: _Characters etc belong to CBS and the show's creators.

* * *

**Four**

Amita was working at the computer in Charlie's office as Larry Fleinhardt paced at the front of the room. He was having another crisis with his new girlfriend and required further advice from Charlie and his knowledgeable offsider. Unfortunately Amita was being less than forthcoming when it came to encouragement that morning, much to Larry's consternation. Instead Charlie was doing his best to guide his troubled colleague.

"What's wrong with taking her to the dinner?" Charlie asked, as he continued to stare at the algorithm on his chalkboard, the headphones hanging around his neck still blaring loud music. He wanted to help his friend, but Larry had interrupted him at a crucial point in his calculations and he was having difficulty switching his mind from one task to the next.

"That's what I said, she seems to think it an inappropriate locale for our first official date," Larry blathered, rubbing his palm across his forehead. "What could be a more glorious declaration of our relationship than to be seen together at the Physics Department's Annual Gala?"

"Yeah, it was a riot last year," Charlie chuckled sarcastically.

"It happens to be the most prestigious event on the department's social calendar," Larry countered. "Not to mention I'd be introducing Laurel publicly as my girlfriend. I thought that was important to her."

Larry shook his head, muttering to himself.

"This was a mistake – I knew I should never have tried combining friendship with a relationship… very risky… it was an untwinnable moment…"

"Aren't you going to say something?" Charlie said in a low voice to Amita. "You were the one who convinced him to try again with Laurel."

Amita looked up from her work with uncharacteristic annoyance. "What do I know? Maybe it was a mistake."

"It was? I knew it!" Larry cried from across the room.

"Amita, come on…" wheedled Charlie.

"What? What do you expect me to do?" she almost snapped.

"Can't you just, you know, psyche him up? You convinced him last time he should try again."

"He's a grown man, Charlie!" Amita could not hide the exasperation in her voice. "You know what, you guys are on your own – I have no idea what any of you want."

Larry approached the desk, a perplexed grimace on his face.

"So you're saying I shouldn't take her to the Gala?"

Amita let out a frustrated laugh as she shook her head at the ceiling. "I'm saying figure it out for yourself because I have better things to do with my time than to counsel you in the ways of love. You're a sweet and sensitive man, Larry, and Laurel obviously cares about you. But if you want to be with her then you have to work out how to make that happen."

"But… I don't know…" Larry stammered.

"God, why do you men have to make things so difficult? And why do women always get blamed for complicating relationships?" The blank looks she received from Charlie and Larry only infuriated her more. "Don't expect me to solve this for you. I can't even organize my own social life. First your brother wants to go out, then suddenly he's too busy… and I have no idea why."

"Wait, my brother asked you out?" asked Charlie, frowning.

"Well, my brother's 54 so I hope she means you," interjected Larry.

"No, I asked him," Amita replied, ignoring Larry. "If I'd waited for him to ask it never would have happened. Didn't he tell you?"

"You're dating Charlie's brother?" asked Larry, interrupting again.

"No, that's my point," Amita sighed. "He changed his mind, just like you, so don't expect me to fill in the blanks with you and Laurel."

When she noticed that Charlie hadn't spoken again Amita was surprised to see a dark, unreadable expression on his face. She realized she probably shouldn't have said anything to Charlie about Don, at least not so casually and in front of someone else. She remembered that Don had been quick to assume there was something going on between her and Charlie, which might explain the look he was now giving her.

Amita was suddenly embarrassed that she had been so insensitive. She liked Charlie a great deal and she knew he liked her too… they worked incredibly well together and had a close friendship that went beyond the usual student/advisor interactions. But that professional relationship meant their friendship could be nothing more, a fact she had accepted. Amita realized with a sinking feeling that perhaps Charlie had not.

* * *

Don found his father gardening in the front yard when he pulled into the driveway. Alan had asked him to stop by after work and for once he had actually left the office while it was still daylight. Don knew it meant probably having to go back later in the evening but for now he was happy to get away from the office and the case files he was wading through with the rest of the team.

"Hey Dad," Don said in greeting.

Alan brushed the soil from his garden gloves as he rose from his knees. "Thanks for coming over, Donny."

"No problem. What are you doing this for? Isn't the garden your landlord's responsibility?" he grinned, referring to Charlie's recent purchase of the family home.

"What does Charlie know about gardening?" Alan replied with shrug. "Besides, I like it out here. Better than rattling around in that house by myself, anyway."

"What's up, Dad? There's nothing wrong, is there?"

"Does there need to be something wrong for a father to want to see his son?" said Alan lightly.

"No, but I was just here the night before last so it can't be because you miss me." Don pulled his sunglasses from his face, as the sun sank further in the sky.

"Fine, it's your brother. He's brooding about something."

"What happened?"

"Like I know what goes on in that head of his. He barely said two words to me yesterday and now he's retreated to the garage. Everything's just sitting out on the lawn so he could put his boards up."

"Oh God, what's he working on now?" asked Don. Charlie working in the garage was not a good sign.

"Nothing, that's the thing. He hasn't been working at all, just sits there and stares. He didn't go to class today either. I thought maybe it was something he was working on with you."

"I doubt it, we haven't really brought him in on the fraud case, it's early days yet," said Don. "Don't worry, I'll go talk to him."

Alan was relieved, having given up trying to coax the reason for Charlie's mood out of him. He was hoping Don might have more luck at breaking through, as his sons had become so much closer after working together in recent months.

"Thanks, Donny."

Don clapped a hand on his father's shoulder as he passed him.

"You staying for dinner?" Alan asked his retreating back.

"Probably not, I should go back to the office. Thanks anyway."

* * *

Just as Alan had said, Charlie was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the garage surrounded by empty chalkboards mounted on the walls and ceiling. He was motionless except for one hand tapping the floor with a piece of chalk with a slow metronomic beat.

"Charlie? You okay?" Don said when he entered.

He certainly looked all right, not the haunted, manic demeanor Don was used to seeing when Charlie was in crisis. Usually that was the only time his brother felt the need to withdraw into the sanctuary of the garage.

"Fine," came the dull, monosyllabic response.

"Why aren't you working? Dad said you didn't go in today."

"No."

"Why not? Didn't you have classes?" Don surveyed the empty chalkboards, surprised at Charlie's inactivity.

"Probably."

"Probably? Charlie, you can't just blow off your responsibilities like that. What about your students?"

Charlie smiled a bitter smile. "My students are just fine. You should know that."

Don was puzzled, but he didn't have time for this if Charlie was going to talk in riddles.

"Okay well, whatever your problem is, can you please come inside? Dad's worried you."

Charlie rose from the floor and started leafing through a notebook with unseeing eyes.

"I told you _and_ him, I'm fine. Just leave me alone," he mumbled without looking at his brother.

"Charlie, come on. Talk to me." Don tried to hide the impatience in his voice, knowing he wouldn't get a response otherwise.

Charlie finally looked at Don challengingly.

"She told me about your date."

"What?"

"Amita," he said without breaking his stare, in case Don tried to deny it.

"Charlie – " Don began, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

"You weren't going to tell me, were you?" Charlie's tone was accusatory.

"Is that what this is about? There's nothing to tell."

"Amita asks you out, and you weren't going to tell me."

"We're not going out, I said no," said Don with a sigh.

"But first you said yes," argued Charlie.

"And then I said no," he repeated.

"What's the difference?"

"The difference is we're not going out," Don replied incredulously.

"Why not?"

"Because… it's obviously not something you're going to be happy about. And because, it's none of your business why." Don wasn't about to explain himself to his brother when he was in this sort of mood.

"I don't believe you. This is Louise Bradshaw all over again!" cried Charlie suddenly, his anger brimming to the surface.

"What are you talking about?"

"Louise Bradshaw, our neighbour. You knew how much I liked her and I found the two of you making out in the attic after the 4th of July fireworks," said Charlie hotly.

Don's face scrunched in astonishment. "Louise Bradshaw? Charlie, for God's sake, you were 8 years old at the time!"

"Like that's even relevant," he said dismissively. "The principle's the same."

"You know what, there is no point even discussing this with you if you are going to be like this." Don started to walk away.

"Fine, because you know I'm right," Charlie called after him.

Don reared around. "No, Charlie, what I know is you're behaving like an adolescent. We're not in high school anymore... Oh wait, I forgot, you weren't even an adolescent in high school. Maybe that's why you're behaving like a juvenile about this."

"Did you or did you not say to me just a few days ago that I should hurry up and ask her out?" Charlie countered.

"Yes, but..."

"'Someone's going to snatch her up', you said," Charlie continued angrily. "I just never expected it to be my own brother doing the snatching."

Don levelled him with a stony glare. "Charlie, it's not my fault if she doesn't feel the same way about you. Grow the hell up."

Charlie's face fell before the expression was quickly replaced with one of betrayal. He stared mutely at Don, and then with a final bitter shake of his head he stalked from the garage.

"Charlie, come on, I'm sorry…" Don called after him, but there was no response.

Don watched him go, exasperated and annoyed that he had reacted to Charlie's outburst. It was a moot point anyway, he had already cancelled dinner with Amita. Don realized Charlie didn't care – it was still the principle that mattered. The fact he had even considered it was evidence of his disloyalty to his brother.

Don sighed plaintively. Deep down he did know Charlie was right.


	5. Five

_Disclaimer: _Characters etc belong to CBS and the show's creators.

* * *

**Five**

That same night, his plans to return to the office abandoned, Don answered the knock at his door, expecting the delivery of Chinese food he had ordered. Instead he was surprised to find Amita standing there, an uncertain expression on her face.

"Amita?"

"I hope you don't mind – I probably should have called first," she said, a faint smile appearing on her lips.

Hesitating for a split second, Don shook his head and opened the door for her, inviting her in.

"Of course not, come in." He waited until she had entered the living room, closing the door slowly while he considered what he was going to say to her. He was curious how she had even tracked him down. "How did you know where I lived?"

She grinned. "You think you're the only one capable of doing some investigating?"

"No, but I also know I'm not in the book and I'm assuming you haven't hacked into any federal databases…" he replied just as lightly.

Amita took in the room around her with its pale olive walls and neat, matching furniture. "Actually I gave Charlie a ride here a few months ago, when he was watering your plants while you were away."

"Oh. Do you want to sit down?" he said, gesturing to the sofa.

"Sure… I'm sorry to come by unannounced. I know how busy you are," she said drolly, after she took a seat.

Don bobbed his head, embarrassed that she had called him on his lame excuse.

"Couldn't resist, sorry," she smirked, eyes twinkling.

With a small laugh, he nodded in agreement. Amita waited until he sat down in an armchair before continuing more seriously.

"I just tried calling Charlie because he didn't come to school today. He didn't want to talk to me but I spoke to your dad."

Don's spark of good humor vanished. "What did he tell you?"

"That you and Charlie had an argument," she said hesitantly. "That maybe it was about me."

"No, it was about Charlie being Charlie." Don sighed as he sat back in the chair, and rubbed his eyes with one hand.

"Don, the last thing I wanted was to cause any problems between you and your brother. This whole thing was my fault – I shouldn't have said anything to him yesterday."

"It's not your fault Charlie was being an ass."

"No, I just blurted out the fact that I had asked you to dinner… that we were going out and then we weren't. It was insensitive of me just to drop it in conversation like that," Amita replied, her brow furrowed. "I didn't mean to hurt him. Charlie's a sweet guy and I cherish his friendship, but regardless of our situation at school… I don't want you to feel like you came between us in any way. My feelings for Charlie are different."

She let out a long breath in frustration, feeling she wasn't explaining herself well. "When I asked you to dinner it was because I wanted to get you know you better… And, I don't know, maybe I picked up on the wrong signals but I thought you were interested."

"Amita, it's not that I'm not," answered Don, his hand now pressing against his temple, "but Charlie…"

"I know, now Charlie's upset." Her expression saddened at the thought.

"Look, he's pissed at me, not you. And this is more about sibling rivalry than anything." Don caught the sudden look of amusement in her eyes, and realized what he had said. "Not that you're not worth arguing over… you know what I mean…"

Before she could answer there was another knock at the door.

"Hang on a second," said Don, disappearing down the hallway.

This time it was the delivery guy. Don paid him and brought the food back to the kitchen.

"Sorry, I haven't eaten yet," he explained.

Amita took the hint, and rose from the couch. "Look, I'll go, I don't want to interrupt your dinner."

"It's okay," Don said quickly. "There's plenty if you'd like to join me."

Amita stared at him a few seconds longer than necessary before she shrugged as casually as she could.

"I could eat…" she said.

* * *

Alan was finishing the washing up when Charlie shuffled into the kitchen. Not wanting to scare him off, Alan resisted the temptation to start haranguing him about not accepting Amita's call. Instead he threw his son a dishcloth so he could help dry the last of the dishes.

"I kept some chicken for you, if you're hungry," Alan said conversationally.

"No thanks," Charlie mumbled.

"Well, it's nice to hear you talking again." Alan tried to catch Charlie's eye to give him a quick grin but he was studiously concentrating on drying a bowl. "You get any work done out there?"

"No."

"And what about all the stuff from the garage?"

"I put it back."

"Oh, good," Alan said, pleased that at least Charlie had given up on his garage-refuge. "So… feeling better then?"

"No, not really," sighed Charlie morosely. "I suppose you spoke to Don?"

"And Amita."

"So you know what he did then." Charlie's anger was rising again.

Alan put down his dishcloth and looked at Charlie kindly. "I know your feelings are hurt. I wish I could make it better, Charlie my boy, I really do."

"You were the one who told me she likes me," he said in an almost accusatory manner.

"She does like you, she told me so tonight. But, like you, she knows that there's nowhere for your relationship to go while you're her advisor. And, as much as she does care about you, she's interested in someone else."

"Yeah, my own Judas brother."

"I'll ignore the Apostlistic reference but, yes, your brother." Alan laid his hands on Charlie's shoulders, forcing his son to look at him. "I know it hurts when you like someone and the feelings aren't reciprocated. But punishing Don because Amita doesn't feel the same way about you isn't fair."

"But why her?" Charlie said in a small voice. "Don's had a ton of girlfriends and never has any trouble finding someone. Why did it have to be Amita?"

"I don't know about you, Charlie, but I haven't exactly seen your brother with a ton of girlfriends recently. Not since he moved to LA when your mother got sick." Alan squeezed his neck gently. "Don't forget what Donny gave up to come back here. He's made sacrifices for this family and he deserves to be happy."

"I know that…" Charlie acknowledged.

"And if Amita could be the cause of that, then we should be happy for him," said Alan insistently. "Even if it hurts."

Charlie let out a breath and shrugged. He knew his father was right. Alan smiled to himself and kissed Charlie's forehead, giving him a brief but warm hug.

* * *

It was after two in the morning when Amita finally looked at her watch. Don was smiling at her from his armchair, taking a last sip of wine that had been poured from the second bottle they'd polished off. She admired him for a moment, his eyes bright and deep, as he stared back at her.

They had not stopped talking since she had stayed for the impromptu meal. She had told him about her family and growing up in India before their move the States when she was ten. She spoke about her schooling and her work, her plans for the future. She had even told him about her 'fiancé' in Madras, an arranged situation she conveniently exploited when warding off the amorous advances of the undesirable, and one she completely forgot when the advances were welcome.

Amita had asked Don the questions she had always wondered about him – about his work and the pride with which he served, about his mother. She was surprised that he had spoken so candidly about her and how he missed her. Don was very good at not revealing too much about himself, but whether it was the wine, the lateness of the hour, or (she hoped) the company, he shared with her the great love and responsibility he felt for his family. That, and baseball. She had laughed as he described his finest game in college, complete with a re-enactment of a particularly good hit, his face lit up all the while like a kid's at Christmas.

Neither of them wanted the night to end, but Amita knew it would be tempting fate to continue. One of them would have brought up the fact that they hadn't resolved the issue of Charlie, and that they were making the situation worse by actually having the date that they told him they weren't going through with. Amita didn't wanted to think about that now, preferring to savor the fact that, as 'not-really-a-date-but-let's-face-it-that's-exactly-what-it-was' first dates went, this one was just about perfect. She suddenly had a new appreciation for Larry and his untwinnable moments.

Before it could be spoiled, she reluctantly insisted she had to leave. Don followed her out to her car, a light hand on the small of her back that made her tingle.

"Are you sure you're okay to drive? I can call you a cab," he offered.

"I'm fine, honestly," she replied, knowing her last glass of wine had been more than two hours ago.

She stopped by the driver's door, and turned to face him. "I had a really nice time," she said sincerely.

"Yeah, me too," Don said through a smile he could not hide.

Neither of them moved or spoke for several moments. Amita looked at him carefully, wondering if he was going to kiss her goodnight. She could see in his eyes that he wanted to, but instead he put his hands behind his back and smiled wistfully at her. She knew why. It would be crossing another line, and there was too much unresolved with Charlie for Don to allow that to happen.

Amita reached out her hand, one finger brushing Don's bottom lip lightly, her gaze coming to rest on his mouth for several seconds before she smiled and stared deep into his dark eyes.

"You're one of the good guys, Don," she said softly.

With that, she got into her convertible, and buckled her seat belt. "Goodnight," Amita murmured.

Don's white teeth flashed briefly. "Goodnight."

He watched as she pulled the car away from the curb and drove down the street, his arms still hanging loosely behind his back. With a final gaze at the dark, clear sky he unashamedly grinned to himself before going back inside.

TBC


	6. Six

_Disclaimer: _Characters etc belong to CBS and the show's creators.

* * *

**Six**

"I'm here to see Special Agent Eppes."

"And you are, sir?"

"His father."

"I'll see if he's available, please take a seat."

"Thank you." Alan wandered away from the front desk at the bureau office and sat on down on an uncomfortable bench. Too late he realized he should have brought a book with him, as Don wasn't expecting him and might not even be there.

"Sir? Agent Eppes is not answering his phone – would you like to wait?"

Alan hesitated for a moment, before nodding. "If that's all right."

He looked around for something to read and helped himself to a recruitment pamphlet for the FBI. As he flipped through the pages he was reminded how proud he was of his eldest son, and Charlie too for that matter. They were making a difference. As much as he hated Don's job and the danger it could potentially put him in on a daily basis, Alan had always admired his career choice.

Don had always been self sufficient as a child, even before Charlie came into the world and demanded so much attention. He asked for little but in return gave generously when it came to others, especially his family. Alan had always regretted the need for Don to return home when his mother was diagnosed with cancer. He gave up running his own field office, even gave up the woman he was supposed to marry, although that wouldn't happen until later. Don gave it all up to move back to LA because he _was_ needed, by all of them, and he came without having to be asked.

Alan mused that perhaps that was why he was getting so involved in his son's personal life. Don had never been terribly open about his feelings and Alan knew his sticking his nose in now was probably the last thing he wanted. But Alan also knew that Don would do anything for his family, especially Charlie, and if that meant giving up someone that might make him happy then so be it. It couldn't happen if it meant his little brother was hurt in the process.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Don's voice coming down the corridor. He son rounded the corner, mid-conversation with Terry, when he looked up and saw Alan.

"Dad? What are you doing here? Is everything all right?" Don asked immediately, assuming something was wrong.

"Everything's fine. I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to see if you had time to grab a bite to eat with your old man. Hi, Terry." He beamed at Don's partner.

"Hi, Mr Eppes, nice to see you," she replied with a bright smile.

"Dad, I'm working," said Don impatiently. "Why didn't you call?"

"Because you would have said you were working and not to come," Alan responded with a twinkle in his eye.

"Exactly."

"So I figured it would be more difficult for you to weasel out of it if I was here in person."

"I'm sorry, I've got interviews this afternoon…" Don frowned in frustration. The last thing he needed was his father wading in on this situation with Charlie – the reason, he had no doubt, why Alan was there.

"Not until 2," Terry piped up, much to Don's chagrin. "You've got time to go to lunch with your dad."

"So that's settled, then," Alan said, clapping a hand on Don's shoulder.

Don shot Terry a 'thanks for nothing' glare and handed her the folders he was carrying.

"I'll be back in an hour," he said darkly.

"Have a nice lunch!" she cried after them, grinning.

* * *

Alan and Don sat at the bar of a nearby restaurant eating club sandwiches. While Don practically inhaled his food in an attempt to shorten any potential lecturing time, Alan only picked at his sandwich, contemplating his son instead.

"You know the story of how I met your mother?" he said finally, after it was clear Don was in no mood for small talk.

"Yes, Dad, at work in the lunch line," Don replied, his mouth still half full.

"Right, only the thing I haven't told you is that she was dating a good friend of mine at the time - he introduced us."

"Really?" Don stopped chewing.

"Uh huh. So we met, and I knew immediately… that was it. I was smitten. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on, and the kindest. The funniest." Alan shook his head at the remembrance. "God, she was a knock out. The problem was she was with my buddy… The things is, the more I got to know her the harder it became to remember that I wasn't supposed to be feeling this way about my friend's girlfriend."

"So what did you do?" Don asked curiously, learning something new about his parents.

"What did I do?" Alan repeated. "What could I do? I wrestled with my conscience, beat myself up for being a bad friend… and then asked her out. We had dinner and went dancing and a few days later she broke it off with him."

Alan looked his son dead in the eye. "I felt bad for treating my friend that way. But I had no regrets. Because I knew if I didn't ask her I would be missing out on something wonderful. And I was right."

Don thought about this for a moment. "What about your buddy? Were you still friends after?"

Alan's mouth twitched. "Well, no, he never did speak to either of us again, but…"

Don couldn't suppress his smile. "So your point is…?"

"Don't worry so much about Charlie, he'll get over it," said Alan adamantly.

"I don't know, Dad," Don shook his head sadly, "he was pretty pissed."

"He's your brother and he loves you. He wants you to be happy. And I'm telling you, son, even if there's a small possibility that you would be happy with Amita, then don't miss the chance to find out. You could be missing out on a lifetime."

"Or it could go nowhere," was the pessimistic response. But considering he hadn't stopped thinking about her all day, Don sincerely doubted it.

"That's the spirit," said Alan sarcastically, tossing his hands up in defeat. He picked up his sandwich, but still didn't eat. "You know, there aren't always clear answers to life's questions, Donny. But I never took you for someone who'd be content to die not knowing."

With that, Alan left him to his thoughts and took a bite of his lunch.

* * *

Charlie returned to his office after his morning lectures, dumping a heavy stack of books on the table with a bang. The loud noise was followed by a much softer one, a knock on his open door. He looked up and was surprised that it was Amita – surprised because she never knocked anymore, and had been making herself at home in his office for more than a year.

"Have you got a second?" she said quite formally, he thought.

"Sure," Charlie replied, not trusting himself to say more. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to act, wasn't even sure how he felt after seeing her for the first time in a couple of days.

"I've been speaking with Professor Lintz…" she started, but didn't continue.

Charlie frowned. Lintz was a fellow lecturer in the math department, a much older colleague whose failed attempts at proving the Poincaré Conjecture were legendary.

"Why?" he asked simply.

"I asked if he would be willing to take me on… to be my new thesis supervisor," Amita replied with difficulty.

Charlie slumped against his desk, his eyes not leaving hers. "Why would you do that?" His voice, previously void of emotion was now filled with naïve incomprehension.

Amita stepped closer to him, hugging her notebook to her chest. "Because I don't want to hurt you, and it's clear that we shouldn't be working together."

"Amita, come on…"

"No," she said vehemently. "I won't come between you and Don. Your family is too important to you, and you are too important to me. I don't want to be that person."

"You won't come between us…"

"I will if I want to keep seeing him, Charlie." She glanced away before forcing herself to meet his gaze once more. "And I do."

Charlie's shoulders sagged. "You really like him, don't you?"

Amita nodded imperceptively, unaware that tears had formed in her eyes. "I don't know if it will lead to anything, or if he'll even be open to the possibility. But I'd like to find out."

"You should," Charlie murmured, his voice cracking. "He's a good guy."

She tried to smile in appreciation but it came out as a grimace. "Regardless of what happens with Don, I think it's better if we don't work together anymore."

"Amita, I want to be your thesis supervisor – we work so well together."

"I can't feel the way you want me to, Charlie. I'm sorry."

"So that's my problem, not yours," he insisted.

"It's not fair on either of us – I don't want us trying to work together and fail because we can't discuss the pink elephant in the room. I've worked too long and too hard to take that risk."

"You know I'm the best person to be your supervisor, Amita. You don't want Lintz."

"Maybe not, but I'd rather have Lintz as my supervisor and you as my friend, if you think we could find our way back to that someday. And if not working together now is the way for that to be a possibility, then… I'll take him."

"God, I'm still your friend, Amita. I'll always be your friend." Charlie rose quickly from the desk and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. "I'm sorry you doubt that."

"I'm sorry I can't be more…" she whispered, holding him tightly.

"But maybe you can for Don, and that will have to be enough for me." He pulled away and looked into her eyes. "It can be enough for me."

Amita smiled, her dark eyes shining. She kissed his cheek and hugged him quickly again.

"No more talk of Professor Lintz?" Charlie said firmly, now holding her at arms length.

"Only if you're sure."

Charlie smiled at her, a little sadly at first, but with growing certainty.


	7. Epilogue

_Disclaimer: _Characters etc belong to CBS and the show's creators.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Don drew his car to halt outside Amita's apartment building. He switched off the engine and sank back into the surburban's leather seat. On the passenger's side, Amita chewed her lip uncertainly. They sat there in silence for a moment, only glancing once at each other a little warily.

"So… that was that," Amita said finally.

"Yep." Don nodded, looking out his window and not at her.

Don had taken Amita to dinner at a nice, quiet restaurant then, much to her surprise, dancing.

She looked over at him, noting his distracted and, if she wasn't much mistaken, disinterested stare. She sighed softly.

"Seems a shame we made such a big deal about this, isn't it?" she said meekly.

"Hmm?" Don snapped back to attention.

"I mean, everything we put Charlie through…" She couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice.

"Yeah," Don acknowledged with a half hearted laugh. "My dad's going to be pretty upset. He couldn't pair you up with either of us, not for want of trying."

"Oh well, we gave it a shot, right?"

"I guess." Don resumed staring out the window rather than look at her.

Amita waited for him to say something else. When he didn't, she sighed again and opened her door to get out. On his side, Don did the same thing. They walked in silence to the front door of her building.

"So, thanks, I guess," Amita shrugged.

"No problem," he replied with just as much energy.

Amita stuck out her hand uncertainly, and Don shook it.

At his touch, her smile immediately appeared. Don raised his eyebrows suggestively at her… and their game was up.

Amita's splayed fingers locked with his, and Don leaned in quickly and kissed her soundly on the lips. Then he moved closer still, one arm sneaking possessively around her back.

As the kiss deepened Amita suddenly started laughing.

"What?" Don grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"After six months I thought you'd be sick of our little joke."

Amita tightened her hold of his hand and, with a final smile, reached for his keys so she could unlock the door.

END

* * *

A big thank you to everyone who has posted feedback! I really appreciate the encouragement. - DK 


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